


Beyond The Light

by crowby



Category: Good Omens, Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Blood, Blood and Gore, Blood and Violence, Body Horror, Death Threats, Domestic Fluff, F/F, F/M, Gore, Gun Violence, Injury, Kidnapping, M/M, Multi, Other, Possession
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-09
Updated: 2020-01-27
Packaged: 2021-02-27 15:35:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 4
Words: 9,915
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22179424
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/crowby/pseuds/crowby
Summary: What happens when a demon and angel want to bring about the apocalypse instead of stopping it? I mean, it is for the greater good after all. Their greater good, that is.more tags possibly added in the future
Relationships: Anathema Device & Newton Pulsifer, Anathema Device/Newton Pulsifer, Aziraphale & Crowley (Good Omens), Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 15





	1. The Beginning of the End

**Author's Note:**

> this is my personal au for good omens. also, when i say blood and gore, i mean there is quite some blood and gore in here. these earlier chapters may not show that, but they will. please do not read if you are not comfortable with that  
> if you are, i hope you enjoy :3

_ "I'm not sure about this, Crowley. This seems too dangerous." _

_ "Oh come on angel! We've danced with danger before. Look at us now!" _

_ "This is not casually getting together to chat and maybe…  _ **_fraternize_ ** _." _

_ "Aziraphale, come on." _

_ "This is  _ **_the_ ** _ Grim Reaper, dear. This isn't some low life specimen." _

_ "He comes from low life specimens." _

_ "Nonetheless, he is a bigger threat than you may think." _

_ "But don't you want to be free from these pointless, annoying rules, angel? Don't you want us to live in peace? No longer fear beings like him?" _

_ "I… suppose." _

_ "We can be free to be ourselves, angel. No hierarchy, no more above or below, just us, being. Do it for us, if not anything else." _

_ ".... Fine, you win." _

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The day had been dreadful. Raining clinging to any available surface outside as the air was sticky and warm to an uncomfortable degree. It didn't help when night fell either. Eventually, just as sudden as when it began, it stopped. The clouds parting to reveal a dazzling sky in the less light polluted part of town. The moon desperately trying to shine down into the almost completely abandoned, desolate buildings of the forgotten neighborhood.

A lone car drove down the eerily empty streets. It's high beams casting upon nothing but worn road and forgotten litter. Inside were three well groomed men. The one behind the wheel, much more fuller than his other two associates, darted his eyes from the road to the rearview mirror repeatedly. He would meet the hazel eyes of the older gentleman that sat in the back. The older man would meet that knowing gaze every time it flashed in the small mirror. The driver seemed much more tense about the ride while the backseat occupant was indifferent. The worry was bothering him at this point, he sighed and cracked the window open to light a smoke.

He let out a lazy puff of smoke into the very humid air as they continued the leisurely drive. From the backseat, and through messy blonde hair, the man looked at the side view mirror to the third man. He had his elbow propped up against the window and his head in his hand. He would occasionally blow the dark red hair out of his face to pass the boredom as they drew closer to their destination. The man in the back took another drag of his cigarette. He had a small smirk on his face as he blew smoke from his nostrils.

Eventually, the car stopped right in front of some dark, nasty alleyway. The driver quickly turned off the car and fumbled with the door handle before getting out. The man in the back simply rolled his eyes as he, too, exitted. The third male looked at the others in confusion as he took in the surrounding area. He hesitantly got out, still scanning the area as he gently shut the car door. The blond threw his barely used cigarette to the ground and stepped it out, fixing his suit and following his nervous companion into the alley.

The more confused man took a bit more time before following his colleagues. He noticed, now without the aid of the car, how absolutely dark it was out that night. There really seemed to be no one living in any of the buildings around them. Not a streetlight even flickered on. In the distance, from where they came, he could see the more occupied city. It looked like something out of a fantasy where he stood; a bejeweled city over the horizon, almost. The only thing keeping him from tripping over his own feet was the moon's desperate attempt at being a light source. 

As he entered the alleyway, passing his two friends to inspect it better. It was just some unimportant alleyway. A dumpster overflowing with trash and random trash bags lazily thrown near the vague direction of it. Deep, muddy puddles reflecting moonlight. Rusted fire escapes barely clinging to worn down buildings. He furrowed his brows and stuffed his hands in his pockets.

"Are you sure this is the drop off? I mean, makes  _ some  _ sense, but…," he trailed off as his brain was slowly connecting the dots. 

Everything eventually clicked with the cocking of a gun behind the taller man. He whipped around, quickly pulling his hands out of his pockets to raise them up in defense. 

"Woah woah woah!! Hey! Let's talk about this!"

His plea was met with the thrusting of the older man's gun in his face. The shorter one took more time to ready his own pistol. 

The older man spoke in a low, gravely voice. "You went against us, Tony. You betrayed your family's trust."

The man, Tony, began to sweat nervously as light brown eyes were wide in terror. Many different thoughts that were racing through his head came to a stop at the other also positioning his gun. Tony spoke in a high, hurried tone.

"W-Whatever I did, was just a mistake! An accident! Accidents happen, right?? We're only human and all of that! I promise, I really promise I can fix whatever happened!"

The older blond smiled an unsettling grin and lined up his shot.

"I'm really sorry Tony, but orders are orders." said the much more somber man. Tony wanted to cry out for help, a plea, or just in frustration at his own mind running a complete blank. He opened his mouth one last time before both men fired, twice for each.

Tony staggered before falling like a log to the filthy ground. He crumpled up into a ball and choked on what would have been a scream. His shirt quickly soaking up blood, or at least trying to as some had began to leak in the surrounding puddles. The two other men quickly advanced. They began to pickpocket the dying man. Taking his own pistol, phone, wallet, and even some loose change. As Tony was choking on his own blood and quickly losing consciousness, he desperately tried to fight back. He pawed at them uselessly, but of course to no avail.

Once they were sure he was wiped clean of any identification, they hurried back to the car. The older one lingered a moment, watching as his former partner desperately clung to his chest at the wounds. He gave a pleasant smile as he sighed and returned to the car before it sped off.

Tony laid there, amongst the trash and dirt, bleeding profusely. His body wracked in pain both literally and emotionally. He was still quite a young man, and his life had been dedicated to those same people that had just gunned him down. To his foggy mind, he felt he had wasted such a life. Tears spilled from his equally foggy eyes. He slowly rolled onto his back, staring up at the sky.

The sky looked so beautiful in this part of town. It was picturesque. The sky sparkling with the universe, and a full moon lazily hanging above him. He could have been looking at this more if he weren't an idiot. He could have seen much more if he just thought about his actions more. Though, he was here for thinking about his actions more, so that was probably redundant. 

He could quickly feel the hot humidity turn into a terribly cold chill. He knew what was going to happen now, no use fighting it. He stared up at the moon, which seemed to be brighter than usual. He felt his body slowly relax, the pain drifting off as time and space blurred around him. The light of the moon was practically becoming blinding, yet it didn't bother Tony. He was alright, in this moment, in this place. He had finished people this same way, but never thought much about how it felt. Though, he didn't like to think about his own mortality all that often.

The moon grew brighter and brighter as he felt like his eyes were closing, despite not moving at all. He sighed as he felt like he was sinking into sleep. It was bright, and cold, and terrifying, but nothing was much left of Tony to care. As the light grew even more, it all suddenly went black. For Tony at least.

His body grew still and he was dead. Minutes passed, then hours. The corpse would most likely lay there for days, possibly even months before someone noticed. It would be a whole other task to identify it. Most likely chucked into a random grave with a 'John Doe' headstone. Though that was a big if.  **If** he was found.  **If** they cared enough to bury him.  **If** .

The moon slowly dragged across the sky as time passed. The corpse still staying, as a corpse would. Soon, a very starved cat slowly crawled towards him. It gave a low mewl and poked the body with one of it's twiggy limbs. After a few more pokes, the cat began to purr and tentatively licked the tear streaked face. 

With a sudden twitch of the head, the cat hopped back and hissed at it's meal. Then it twitched again, more roughly this time. The third twitch, this time coming from one of the blood covered hands, was what finally made the cat scurry off and decide not to risk staying any longer. The body jumped as limbs and once rigamortis stricken muscles twitch uncontrollably. It was as though electric shocks shot through different parts of his body at varying degrees. It definitely appeared supernatural if anyone was there to witness it. 

Then the sound of something snapping, possibly bone, emanated from the presumably dead body. Limbs twisting back in painful ways as the body jolted in unnatural positions. Soon, the foggy dead eyes grew bright and the body sat up in a regular sitting position. He let out a loud gasp and looked around. 

As Tony's once dead body tries to take a deep breath, was met with a terrible coughing fit and blood being spit out. He looked down and ran his hands down the dark grey shirt, finding it moist with blood and ruined by bullet holes. Tony, our at least  _ possibly _ Tony, hissed in pain at the still fresh bullet holes being touched He patted the rest of the body down, feeling the stylish black jacket that had also been ruined, and tight black pants that had also gotten blood on him. He also dug through his pockets to find nothing but a pair of interesting sunglasses and a pack of gum.

He eventually stood up, seeming to not have cared that he died not too long ago. He inspected his equally ruined shoes like someone trying on a new pair and gave a short sigh. He looked around and stuffed his hands in his pant pockets.

"Well," he said in a very pleased tone. "didn't take long to find a body."

He talked to no one in particular and stepped out into the streets. He looked around and then towards the city on the horizon. A spark of something hit him in that direction, some energy or force. It barely lingered before it pulsed again for a split second.

He smiled and started walking. As he leisurely strode down the sidewalk with a new vigor and sway of his hips, he left a small trail of blood behind that slowly began to thin out. This new being was heading towards that faint flicker of energy, letting it guide him to it.

"Don't worry Aziraphale, I'm coming t' get ya."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> criticism always welcomed <3
> 
> wanna ask me questions about the au or follow my shit posts? https://softdemoncrowby.tumblr.com/


	2. "Angel"

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A demon meets up with his "angel"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> chapter 2 bb lez go

_ "But how is this going to work? We can't just do it  _ **_now_ ** ."

_ "I heard around that they're apparently roaming Earth. So we can get our chance there." _

**_"Ugh_ ** **,** _ Earth? Out of the places in all these realms,  _ **_that_ ** _ is where they decide to stay?" _

_ "I know, but that's great! They'll be vulnerable since they seem to love those scum so much." _

_ "I just hope this will be worth it, Crowley." _

_ "It will, we just need some fresh bodies and we're ready to go." _

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It was quiet in the small store. Fluorescent lights shining down on the stocked shelves and light green walls. There were many TVs hung around the shop, from older sets to widescreen, that all played different footage of video games. If you listened closely, you could hear some speakers hidden away that faintly played some relevant music. The smell of plastic, dust, and some very generic air freshener clung in the artificially cooled room.

At a small counter was quite a lanky man with dirty blond hair. Their hair was wrapped in a messy bun as his  _ 'Halo _ ' themed t-shirt hung on his frame loosely in an almost cartoonish way. His body looked sickly thin, as though just a gust of wind would be enough to kill him. This made his cargo shorts barely hold onto his hips and his facial features appear sharper than steel. He was counting the cash from the register, lost in thought. He barely paid any mind when a figure seemed to stop dead in front of one of the large windows at the front of the store. Though it didn't help that many signs and promotional ads obscured the window.

Even when the door gave a small little chime as said figure finally decided to enter after many moments, the unsuspecting male gave little notice. He didn't respond at first, staggering in his counting for a second as he tried to recalibrate his mind. He mumbled a greeting and slowly spoke, trying to separate his attention evenly.

"We'll be closing soon, so if you wanna make a purchase, do it now."

It was quiet for another moment before a pair of bloody hands slammed onto the counter, smearing the freshly cleaned glass and giving the clerk a momentary heart attack. The poor blond looked up to find the hands weren't the only parts of them covered in blood. His eyes quickly scanned the rest of the poor lad.

Sweat, mud, and blood covered the man in many different forms. Dried, wet, and anything in between. Something like bullet holes could be seen on his chest and most likely blood having soaked into the thin, silky fabric of the man's shirt. His hair was short and tousled, flipped and sticking in different directions. It also seeming to have random residue stuck in it. His face was deathly pale like a ghost. The fluorescent lights making him look as though he was almost glowing. He looked to be about a young adult or middle age maybe, but was hard to tell through some of the filth and deathly air to him.

The startled, much cleaner man seemed to compose himself quite quickly after dragging his eyes back to the tired eyes of the other. He gave a small smile.

"Can I help you, sir?" he asked in a calm, cherry tone. The bloodied man rolled his eyes and removed his hands from the counter.

"Angel, don't be a smartass with me," the corpse-looking man replied in a very low voice.

"I know it's you in there."

"Huh?" The clerk seemed to grow tense and startled again. He clung to the counter slowly.

"Yeah, what other being from the uppercrust would be on this flying turd?" the man practically chuckled out himself. This seemed to relax the clerk enough to compose himself again. The cashier walked around to stand a bit closer to the disheveled man.

"Well, what are you doing here, then?"

"What do you think?? The plan! Goodness, how long did it take for me to get here?" 

He slicked back his messy red hair, which didn't change much as it flopped back to how it was, and looked around the store.

"I can tell you got comfortable, apparently."

The somehow lankier man shrugged.

"You need to occupy time somehow."

The injured man nodded slowly and returned his gaze to his apparent partner in crime. A smile grew onto his dirty face as he placed his still messy hands on the other's shoulders.

"We're gonna do this, Aziraphale. We'll get that reaper bastard."

A flash of something came over the other's face that was unrecognizable to the very crazy looking man. Soon after, however, a smile overcame his sharp featured face as he shrugged the hands off him and patted his back with the most gentle, caring touch. He patted them lightly before escorting the bloody individual slowly somewhere in the back of the store. Beyond the shelves and bins, behind a few cardboard cutouts to a heavy door next to the one person bathroom.

"We will, as long as we're together." He said as he opened the door. The room was average looking and somewhat big for back room. A worn out sofa in the middle of the room across from a bulky, old TV that he lead his visitor to. He walked off to grab something from a mini fridge shunned to the corner of the room while the messy man flopped down on the couch. He returned with a chilled can with some bright yellow and blue designs. He placed it on the ring-stained coffee table that sat between the TV and couch.

"Here's something to help you feel a bit better. It looks like you've had a rough night."

The ghostly man shook his head and chuckled again. He wrapped his thin fingers around the can and instantly sighed in relief at the cooling of his sweaty flesh. 

"You're always accommodating, angel."

The man, or angel, nodded and patted his guest's shoulder.

"Just wait here, I need to finish up something real quick. You kinda interrupted before."

The man nodded, giving a small smile to his companion, and relaxed against the couch. He slowly brought the can up to press against his forehead. He shivered at the cold contact and smeared his filth onto the furniture and can. The dirty blond hurriedly left the other man to his own devices.

The heavy metal door slowly creaked to a close, clicking as it was firmly shut. The strange man soon sat back up and leaned on the edge of the cushion. He inspected the can in his hand. It was wet with condensation and warming up quickly from being held. He tapped and poked the can in random areas as he tried to deduce what exactly it was. Bright yellow letters on the front said  _ 'SHOCKER'  _ with some odd yellow orbs underneath it. He set it down and moved his attention to the gadgets on the table.

Many electronic devices, wires, and an abandoned bag of chips were strewn over the faded wood of the table. He picked up each device and fooled around with it. Pressing, pulling, and pushing random dials and buttons on all of them to see if anything happened. Nothing really occurred until he reached a long, rectangular remote. A few guesses later, he was able to turn on the TV with the crackle of electricity behind the dusty screen.

He watched in curiosity at the program playing. It showed some random people on a picnic, heavily enjoying a bag of chips that looked like the same one on the coffee table. They partook in it like it was the best thing in the universe as narration went on about just how heavenly it was. The man narrowed his eyes at the TV and then looked to the bag. He put the remote down to snatched the bag up and eat the very crushed potato chips. 

He made a face and spit it back into the bag that he dropped back on the table. He wiped his mouth, which did nothing but smear more filth on his face. His attention was brought back to the screen when some women appeared at a desk. She held some papers in her well manicured hands as she welcomed everyone back to her program. 

_ "Tonight, we have more reports of what people have begun to call … cryptids." _

The man sat up straight as an image of some blurry, dark figure appeared next to the woman's head.

_ "This is the 50th time this month in the city alone. Suburbs and even neighboring cities have been reporting more and more of these haunting beings terrorizing citizens." _

The picture of the newsroom faded to the one that was behind the woman, now fully showing off it's grotesquely large head and stringy limbs. It's skin was hard to see in the dark picture, but it looked like it was glistening like it's many dark eyes on it's inflated head.

_ "Police have been investigating these creatures, along with the disappearances and attacks that have followed with the reported sightings." _

The image fades to another one, showing an even more blurred picture of some poor child being grabbed by many hands. Long black arms stretched out some tube slide and seemed to be pulling the kid in. They grabbed at any part of the kid they could and raised him off the ground. Other people in the picture seemed to either flee or rush in to help the lost cause that was the child.

_ "People have been pleading the government relentlessly to help stop these creatures from further harming anyone else, even our own station urging anyone to offer a word on the matter. Sadly, even we were unable to get a response." _

The image fades one last time to the image of a very tall humid creature on some darkened road. It had some extra arms and seemed to be holding something in them, but nothing like the last two. Nothing disgusting or too interesting. But it seemed to really interest the gross man, who was currently leaning in his seat so far he was practically crouching. His brown eyes wide and sparkling as he had a wide grin. He cackled and leaned back against the couch.

"This is perfect!! This is going to be even easier than I thought!"

His cackled calmed down and he wiped tears from his eyes. He called out to the other.

"Aziraphale, get in here! You won't believe this!"

He was met with silence and then realized just how long his partner had been gone. He got up and went over to the door to open just a crack. He saw the lights at been shut off, the only light now coming from the display TVs. He shifted his feet to catch his friend in sight but found it harder with the new darkness. Once he did find him, he saw him talk into some device. The redhead went still and focused on what he was saying.

"... yeah, apparently he's working with someone. And no he didn't attack me, he thinks I'm his partner…. I know, I'm distracting him now, just come quick though. I don't know how long I can do this."

The man gripped the door handle hard, knuckles going white as he heard this. He felt a faint heartbeat quickly beat in his punctured chest as he tried not to rip the door off and then rip this liar to shreds. With a few shallow, uneven breaths, he quietly closed the door and sat back down. He stared at the TV, not really watching anything, but thinking deeply about what to do next.

Eventually, the other man returned and closed the door behind him. He gave a smile to his guest who was still as a statue and body tense.

"Sorry, had to recount everything. It's all good now."

All he got in return was a grunt in response. His guest leaned back against the couch as the man posing as his friend came to lean against the arm. He placed a hand on it, his oversized shirt and cargo pants swaying with his movements as he looked at what was playing.

"Ugh, hate the news. Always so depressing."

Many things happened a few seconds after that was said. The sound of fabric tearing and skin stretching, and a flurry of some long object shoot from the bloody man's back towards his host. Eventually, the sound of something hitting the arm of the couch. It took another second to register what exactly happened at all in those few milliseconds.

A long, reddish white limb protruded from the redhead's back. It looked almost insect-like, and seemed to tear through the back of the jacket. The most worrying part, however, was how the pointed end of it seemed to puncture the other man's hand and go all the way to the sofa. He was, however, very much unfazed at his hand being impaled. Instead, he gave it a very uninterested look and then shifting that bored gaze to the enraged one of his aggressor.

"Um… You okay?"

The man tried not to scream at this imposter, deciding instead to talk through gritted teeth and a hiss that echoed in his restrained voice.

" **You aren't Azsssiraphale.** "

"Never said I was, dude." He said with a cheeky smile.

This drove the already angry man over the edge. He lunged at the other, but was quickly subdued with a punch to his bullet hole ridden chest. It completely knocked what little wind was in him and bring him into a violent, blood filled coughing fit. He staggered past the other and fell to his knees to clutch his chest. The other used this opportunity to dislodge his hand from the pointed appendage and dash for the can on the table.

"Ya thirsty?" the blonde quipped as he shook the can. The hurt man turned around just in time as the can was opened and shot its contents onto him. He roared in some multi toned, anguish scream as unimaginable pain racked his body. Steam rose off him and the cleaner parts of his skin went red, along with his eyes that got the blunt of it. He tried covering his face as the spray began to die down.

A swift, supernaturally powered kick was delivered to his aching, burning chest. He flew backwards towards the door and busted it down with immense force. He and the door crashed into some clearance bin. Cases and cheaply made trinkets scattered all over the floor or were crushed under the door. The demonic man growled as he fumbled to get up.

He was suddenly stopped by another spray of that burning liquid. He screamed again, this time more in anger than pain. He thought hard and forced his body up through the pain. He then lunged at his attacker again, summoning another sharp limb so he could try puncturing the lying bastard more effectively. He used his hands to try and strangle him as well.

He was lucky enough to grab the other's neck through his literal blind rage, which resulted in the other man's own shout of pain. The man could barely see smoke rise from where he held a death grip on the other man and any other bloody body part that touched him. He tightened his grip, eventually slamming him onto the floor and wringing his neck.

Before the other man could be choked out, however, he was able to flip the bloody man over. He was slammed down onto his back and had let go of the other's throat. He opened his eyes and was met with swaying shapes and colors. It was dawning on him that he could die to this impostor before he can actually meet with his Aziraphale. It took him a moment to sit up, and then half that time to stand. 

Luckily for him, the other had been coughing and grabbing his now seared neck in an attempt to calm the burning. He glared down him before whipping his head to the door he had entered through earlier. He put all his strength into his legs as he went to book it. His world shifted and swayed with every step. He was barely able to walk completely straight, but he kept going nonetheless. 

He soon got to the door and haphazardly pushed it open. Hot air hit his already burning skin like a ton of bricks. The dark streets helped to soothe his eyes, thankfully. He didn't even assess his surroundings before picking a random direction and running while he still could. Air whipped around him and he soon was able to steady his vision slightly. His running got more stable and the burning of his flesh calmed down to a continuous, low sting. He began to pant, which then made blood spurt from his chest a bit.

"Okay… not easy then…"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> criticism always welcomed
> 
> follow me at https://discoinfernocrowby.tumblr.com/
> 
> <3


	3. A Series of Unfortunate Events

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A downtrodden bookshop owner tries his best during a storm

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i just wanna say a big thank you to all my friends who beta read every chapter, they are all amazing and i love them
> 
> this is the chapter where things get a bit more gorey

_"We will be separated though…"_

_"Most likely, yes. It may even take us different amounts of time to find a body, but we'll find each other again."_

_"I don't want you hurt, Crowley. I don't know what I would do if…. if-"_

_"We'll be fine. I know it, Aziraphale."_

_"I sure hope so, dear."_

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The pitter-patter of rain could be heard clearly through the old, decaying roof of the ancient building. Some even leaking through and staining the worn plaster of the ceiling, or even worse, breaking through and leaking into the shop. The floor was moist with the never ending droplets of water and it's color being quickly washed away. Buckets, bowls, and even empty tin cans were scattered over the floor and shelves in a desperate attempt in dealing with the advancing damage.

A robust man hurried around, replacing full buckets with empty ones, and trying to rearrange the many stacks of books. He emptied full containers into the sink and dodging watery landmines. Rain continued to drench the floor and water-damage the old collection of books in unsearchable corners or out of reach cracks. Sweat covered his flushed face. He panted as he dropped another stack of tomes in a, hopefully, safe place. He tried wiping the dust off his hands onto his pants, but instead smeared it due to them being wet.

He sighed and walked to a desk near the shop floor. The blonde plopped his tired self into the wooden swivel chair, making it creek terribly from the sudden force and weight. Looking over the small desk, he saw it was littered with half full vases and bowls of water just like the rest of the bookstore. There was very little desk to actually be seen, however, under the mountains of personal mail and overdo bills. The sweaty man grabbed an already dirty handkerchief from the pile of papers before cleaning his hands off the best he could. The bleach blond tried to also clean the grime on his beige pants but somehow made it worse and got some on his blue sweater vest too. Slowly letting out a breath of air through a clenched jaw, he tried to disperse the tension in his forehead and shoulders.

With careful precision and focused, steady hands, he shuffled through the papers. He weaved through quickly filling vases and random books. The tired looking man gave a weak smile and a sigh of relief upon finally finding his small, round reading glasses. After wiping his brow and moving a few things out of the way, he picked them up only to soon drop them in a very full vase of water. It created a small splash that got on everything else around it. They slowly sunk to the bottom as he watched. Pale blue eyes filled with tears of frustration and his body became rigid with the tension from before. He raised a clenched fist, in possibly frustration or to break something, but neither happened. Instead, he folded his arms onto his desk, knocking some stuff off in the process, and buried his head in them.

The rain could be heard louder than before, beating down harder and wind whistling louder with it. The wind would have barely been a noticeable thing if it weren’t for the barren crawl space between the roof and ceiling. The same crawl space where rain continued to leak in through slowly widening cracks in the ceiling and walls. The rain slowly trickled in the empty space between the walls as well, cerating future mold and leaving blotches in the peeling wallpaper. Shutters on the smaller windows were barely bolted onto the building. They shook and hit against the window pains and threatening to smash the fogged up glass. The middle aged man forced himself to slow his breathing and make himself relax. He listened to the sounds around his shop and collect his feelings.

There was the sound of droplets of water dropping into full, half-empty, and empty containers. Little plonks and plips while also reverberating in whatever they fell in. If he focused hard enough, he could almost hear a disjointed rhythm to them all. Even the soft thud of droplets against the wood of one of the shelves. He snapped his head up. He focused on the sound, looking around his shop to see where it was coming from as he could distinctly hear the _thunk, thunk, thunk._ The older man looked feverishly until he finally saw the particularly large shelf behind him. It was packed to the brim with books that looked in much better condition than any of the other books in the shop. He could see right above it was a damp crack that quickly dripped water onto it’s almost black looking wood and spilling onto the other shelves.They would be quickly ruined in no time and he knew this.

He hurried to his feet and went straight over to the shelf. Muttering under his breath, the man shuffled and flailed while trying to think of something to do. He looked to the bookshop around him to find any remaining object that wasn't full of water. He cursed himself and looked up at the ceiling to find it was quickly turning from a continuous drip to a small stream pouring down on the shelf. It began spilling over the top, curving around the intricately designed shelves to dampen the books on it and fill every corner. He looked around again, searching for anything he might of missed. Of course there was still nothing. He then stood in front of the bookshelf, which was heavier and much bigger than himself, and tried wrapping his arms around it. Hands desperately grasped at the smooth sides, finding no purchase. This didn’t stop him though.

With his arms barely making it around the wide piece of furniture, the not-so-fit male began to pull the shelf out. It scratched horribly against the wooden floor while it inched across the floor. His face grew red and he tightened his grip as he used all his might to save the precious books. As he was beginning to finally make noticeable progress, he failed to notice a ceramic bowl full of water right behind him. He took a step back as the shelf began to give, and spilled the bowl's contents everywhere with a loud crack of ceramic. His legs failed and he let go, flailing his arms for any support or leverage. He couldn't get a hold on anything with his sweaty hands and he fell right on his back with a loud thud. The man loudly yelped in pain while falling in the puddle and broken glass.

The shelf let out a creek that quickly grew louder as it started tipping forward. The hurt man’s eyes grew wide. He was barely able to lift his arms to shield himself before the huge shelf and it’s any books fell on top of him. He was crushed to death. It wasn't a painless death. His lungs punctured with his own ribs and a definite skull fracture. He was in a haze of reality, filled with pain, regret and darkness as his lungs filled with his own blood and his brain hemorrhaged. Through the haze and darkness he was shrouded in, he could see his life play in his cloudy mind. His childhood, to his teen years, moving to his young adult years where he married. His wedding day, his first house, his son’s birth, and he felt tears obscuring his already ruined vision. With desperate attempts at moving the shelf he only made it harder on himself. He then saw the recent memories, his regrets, and all his mistakes that led him here. He could feel himself cry now as the darkness seemed to envelope him more. Whimpering, he slowly sunk into the comfort of unconsciousness and, in turn, death.

His body laid there for many hours, the rain soon ending, and soon after the leaks from the roof as well. The night went on and on, nothing stirring in the stagnant air of the shop other than any remaining precipitation every now and again. People outside the store finishing up their nights and heading home. The bookshop unchanging while the world moved on. After the night was slowly closing to morning, the shelf was raised back up seamlessly and put in its place form before. The once dead man was now back on his feet and steadying the shelf as to make sure it didn't fall over again. He smiled to himself as his eyes held a brighter shine than they had before. He admired the shelf before scanning his surroundings as though it was his first time there. The smile was quickly replaced with slight disgust as he looked over the shop. He shook his head and then gazed down at himself. His eyebrows raised in pleasant surprise as he flexed his fingers and stretched his arms like trying on some new coat.

"Everything seems to be in working order."  
He said to no one but himself.

Flexing his hands more and rolling his wrists a bit, he took a deep breath and shifted his shoulders. He rolled his neck, the sound of bones cracking could be heard as he did this. He then inspected what he was wearing. The look of disgust didn’t seem to leave as he saw the dirty pants and shirt. A ring on his hand caught his eye and he shifted his attention to it. He twisted it around his finger before suddenly looked over the shelf that was once on top of him. He picked up the books before putting them back on the shelf, all while reading their covers. Some intrigued him enough to skim a page or two. One book pulled him in instantly. The withered cover read “The Picture of Dorian Gray” and he was quickly lost amongst the pages. His face in awe as he was unable to stop, barely moving. Out of nowhere, he felt a sudden pulse.

He brought his head up from the pages and snapped the book closed. The pulse came again, stronger this time. It was something dark, he knew. It felt like an electric current getting stronger and stronger with each second. It seemed to be nearby. The recently deceased man focused on that energy, feeling it pulse around and in him. He smiled ear to ear as he quickly stepped out the bookshop to get a better perspective of where it was coming from. The sky was a deep purple, while the horizon was a pale pink. Stars were fading as the full moon drifted out of view. The streets were soaked and empty, and the faintest of breezes went through them. He looked around, feeling it come from the building right across the street from him.

"Excellent!"

He ran over to the bakery right across from him, taking the alley next to it and going around to the back. The man was so excited as he followed that ever growing feeling. Lost in his own thoughts, he didn't even notice the sound of something being torn and crushed to pieces nearby.

"Crowley? Is that you? It's me, Aziraphale!" the man, Azirphale, exclaimed to who he thought was his partner.

Instead, it was a random blonde woman. Her blonde hair was a mess, along with her black jacket and pants. He was crouched over something, her head was half buried in it. Her hands dug into whatever it was, which made the tearing and crushing sound. She quickly snapped her head up and Aziraphale could see what she was so busy with. It was a poor human, a young adult or something close and not identifiable passed that. He could see the whole front of her was soaked in blood from her face down to the top of her gray pants. Her hands didn’t fair either, slick with blood and flesh clinging to her fingernails. He could even swear he saw boons tangled in the front of her hair She looked directly at Aziraphale and sniffed the air.

"Uppercrust…," the monstrous woman uttered under her breath, in a low reverberating tone.

She stood up, revealing more of the dead body she was previously snacking on. It’s head was bashed in and the chest cavity looked to be ripped open. The young woman’s blown out pupils quickly thinned out and revealed her grey eyes. She cracked her neck as she tried to stare down the other. Aziraphale simply straightened his posture and clenched his jaw.

"I see I was mistaken. Apologies."

"You aren't going anywhere."

"As nice as it would be to stay and chat, I have important matters to attend to," Aziraphale said as he stood unwavering to the slowly stalking woman.

Her form was slowly beginning to shift and change. Her leather jacket tore as she grew taller, along with the rest of her clothes. Her skin began to darken, cracking and splitting like broken glass. Some parts of her body were as pale and bright as moonlight, while others appearing as though it was charred and burnt to a crisp. Her eyes became larger and began bugging out of her head. Hair was receding and veins bulge across her scalp, particularly around her eyes. Her face split open below her mouth all the way to her chin, and even her cheeks. The flaps of flash revealed rows and rows of teeth that spiraled into a gaping orifice in the center.

A sound like buzzing or the sizzling of hot water emanated from the horrid creature. Aziraphale still stood his ground as she grew lankier and taller, hands growing sharp claws, and the last bit of clothing being torn away to fully reveal her skeletal-like form.

"Don't make me use force," he warned and flared his own supernatural energy back at her.  
She didn't waver, instead advancing on the stubborn man. The sizzling sound grew louder and louder as she was now an arm's length away. She raised a clawed hand to strike down Aziraphale, when suddenly, she stopped.

She froze as some sharp appendage pierced her stomach. She looked down just before another came through above her right breast. She growled and hissed as they bent around her and started to pull. The sizzling sound grew louder, cracking as well as her eyes threaten to pop right out of her head. Aziraphale finally decided to step back as she clawed at whatever was hurting her. It did little to help as the another came clean through her on her left shoulder. With another distorted scream, her demonic energy flared. She gripped the one appendage to try and snap it off. It did nothing but make it curl tighter around her. Another pierced her neck before they all began to pull. Unfortunately for her, she was ripped into shreds.

What was left of her body fell onto the ground in front of Aziraphale. He took another step back as thick, black blood pooled around the twitching remains. He stared in confusion and shock as what was left of the ungodly creature whimpered and squirmed in a desperate attempt to piece herself back together. He looked up to see who his savior was. A lanky man covered in dried blood stood panting, the same appendages that tore the being apart earlier protruding from his back. He gave a cheeky grin to Aziraphale.

"Sorry for the wait, angel."

Aziraphale smiled in relief and put a hand to his chest.

"Crowley!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> criticism is always welcomed 
> 
> follow me at https://discoinfernocrowby.tumblr.com/ and ask me questions <3


	4. Unexpected Visitor

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A delivery man gets an interesting visitor.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> took a good minute to get this finished due to some personal and technical issues, but here it is! enjoy!  
> and again, thank you to all my lovely friends for support and help <3

The rain had been beating down relentlessly all day and now well into the night. Streets were practically flooded as water hurriedly poured into any available drain. Street lights were curtained heavily by rain and only shimmered pathetically against the onslaught of precipitation. With the sky completely covered and the rain never ending, it was impossible for anyone to navigate through the area. Despite this, it seemed like a car was still desperately driving down suburban roads and trying it’s best to not completely get swept away.    
  
Tires turned in different directions radically to keep from swerving off into someone’s lawn. With every turn was a noticeable screech of metal that was much too old to hold its own anymore. Wind whipped at the thin exterior of the car, chipping the already peeling blue paint off. It also made the one back window, which was actually a duct taped garbage bag, flail and threaten to be blown away by the wind. The other windows didn’t fair better. If they weren’t completely stuck shut they were just open enough to get the worn seats and dirty floors soaked.   
  
In the driver’s seat sat a very disheveled young man. His hair was greasy from the humidity and sweat, sticking to his pale forehead. His glasses were just slightly fogged, but from what he wasn’t sure. He swallowed hard and gripped the wheel as he frantically turned the decaying vehicle. His knuckles were even paler from how hard he was holding the wheel, as though if he simply kept his hands on it and tried to see through the pounding rain with his dim headlights, he would be fine. He had been fine so far doing this, with his body hunched over in a position that would certainly hurt when he wasn’t as anxious anymore.    
  
His jaw was clenched as he grinded his teeth and visibly swallowed hard. With a glance at the broken radio that displayed a time that took an ungodly amount of math to decipher the actual time, he figured he still had time before this delivery was late. He risked another glance at the passenger seat, which sat a few pizza boxes wrapped up in his windbreaker. His uniform was now wet because of this but he figured he needed to wash it anyways and this was the closest thing to cleaning it until his next check.    
  
Through the one working windshield wiper, he could see he was in another similar looking suburb with the same looking houses as the last one he got lost in. Middle class families tucked inside their nice homes, enjoying whatever luxury was available to them and making orders for poor pizza delivery boys to follow. The anxious man looked out the side of his window for one second before doing a double take and realizing he was about to pass the house he was supposed to deliver to.    
  
Stepping hard on the breaks, the car screeched as it stopped about a foot from where it was planned to be. He quickly stepped out of the car and slipped in the almost ankle high water. He gripped the door and roof of the car to steady himself. Once he could stand on his feet properly, he made sure that he didn’t destroy anymore of his car. Everything looked fine enough, aside from him being completely drenched, and carefully went to retrieve the pizza boxes.    
  
Still tightly wrapped in the wind breaker, he made sure to watch his feet as he made his way to the house in question. Finally, he was on the doorstep, soaking wet but alive and totally not late. He sighed with relief and knocked on the door. He could hear people inside, laughing and talking behind the door. He could also hear what sounded like the TV or possibly the radio discussing the weather and how it was dangerous for anyone to actually be out in it. The man rolled his eyes and jumped slightly when the door opened. A warm, yellow light flooded out of the house on the doorstep and pathetic delivery man.    
  
At the door was an older, balding gentleman who didn’t look quite pleased. His old blue eyes scanned the younger man, making him feel much smaller despite the two being about the same height. The younger of the two cleared his throat and held the pizza boxes closer to him.   
  
“Is this the, um, McDonald residence?”   
  
The man kept his gaze on the man and stuffed his hands in his pockets.   
“Took your time, huh?”   
  
All the delivery boy could do was laugh and apologize as the other male began to get some cash out and count it at his own pace. The two stood in silence before the delivery man felt compelled to break it.   
  
“Kinda funny, eh?” he said and got a strange glance from his customer. “I mean, McDonald… ordering pizza, ‘cus, ya know-”   
  
“You sure ain’t one to talk  _ Newton _ ,” the man interrupted him in an annoyed tone as he read off his name-tag.   
  
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean anything bad by it! It was just a joke and…” Newton trailed off as he awkwardly handed off the pizzas and was given the money.   
  
“Sure lad.”   
  
“Um, would you also like to-”   
The door slammed in Newton’s face, shrouding him back in darkness. His posture slumped as he pocketed the money.   
“... tip.”   
  
He went to take a step off the doorstep, hesitating as he realized he also gave the man his windbreaker. He debated knocking again, but instead walked back to his car instead. The jacket was cheap anyways, he thought, and seemed no use to him as he was already drenched. He slumped into the driver’s seat and tried a few times to start up the car before it begrudgingly did. As he got ready to turn around and leave, a figure appeared to leap out right in front of his car.    
  
Newton gasped and slammed as hard as he could on the breaks. The car lurched with an ungodly loud screech from the mostly smooth tires. The whole vehicle shuddered from the sudden action as Newton panted. He looked around the car for the figure, assuming whoever he almost ran over would have a word or two for him. When he saw no one, he begin to panic more.   
  
“Please tell me I didn’t kill someone… oh shit.”    
  
He leaped out of the car, falling on his rear before hurriedly getting up in a comical fashion. After inspecting the front of the car, he found no one was there. He looked underneath the car and found nobody there either. He looked around, still panting as the rain continued on. The car didn’t have a dent, or a new one at least, and there was nobody around. Newton sighed, trying to clear his glasses before frustratingly returning to his car. He assumed it was simply the rain and stress messing with his mind   
  
~=~=~=~=~=~=~=~=~=~=~=~=~=~=~=~=~=~=~=~=~=~=~=~=~=~=~=~=~=~=~=~=~=~=~=~   
  
By the time Newton had returned home, the rain had finally ended. It was late, the sky almost black as the moon shines brilliantly in the middle of what looked like a void. The mess of a man drove into the parking lot in front of an average looking apartment building. He slumped against the beige seat and looked out the wet, dirty windshield. He sighed deeply, trying to relax his stiff muscles but failing in doing so.    
  
He stared out the window, but he wasn’t really focusing on anything. He let his mind zone out slightly, getting lost on random trains of thought which usually lead to the same question of “how did I end up here?” Newton continued like this until he noticed a poor woman walking her dog was getting unnerved by his continuous stare from him. He blushed and shrugged before she quickly made her way inside the apartments. He facepalmed himself and made himself wait in the car a bit longer, just so he would avoid running into her.   
  
Soon, he made his way to his apartment, shoes squeaking while he carried a bag of leftover pizza from work. After fumbling and dropping his keys twice, he finally entered his apartment. He flicked on the fluorescent ceiling lights to reveal the tiny, messy home. Newton pushed clothes that were scattered on the floor as he entered and closed the door behind him. He tossed the bag on the counter and began to undress. Unlike the rest of the clothes, he put his work uniform on a chair.   
  
Picking up and sniffing a seemingly clean t-shirt, he tossed that on along with some less clean sweat pants. He tried to reason with himself that he would clean his clothes the next paycheck he got, but deep down he knew he was lying to himself. He went over to the discarded pizza and began to put a few slices on a flimsy paper plate. Looking at it for a moment, he decided it wasn’t enough and grabbed a hot pocket from the fridge before putting both in the microwave.   
  
Newton watched as the food slowly turned behind the grimy glass of the microwave before looking towards his apartment. He really made a right mess of it. Clothes laid on every surface, some thrown there out of laziness or some used to wipe up spills. Near the front door on a small table was a mountain of books, ranging from regular text books to anything computer related. They were covered in dust along with letters from his mother. Looking at it ached Newton’s heart, but he quickly distracted himself by looking at the time.   
  
He wasn’t surprised it was late. Almost everyone at work called off and he was the one to pick up all the slack. He also wouldn’t be surprised if he didn’t get paid more for the extra work. It was a dead end job, he knew, but he didn’t have the motivation or energy to really change any of it. He was beginning to get a little impatient with the food and was about to just eat it all half cold, but was interrupted by a knock at the door.    
  
Newton looked at the door and to the clock on the wall again. Another knock confirmed that indeed someone was at his door. He went through a list of people of who it could be, which was a short list, and concluded it must be his landlord. He internally cursed at himself, trying to remember if he paid rent this month. He was sure he had but his memory was never entirely reliable. His thoughts were interrupted again with another more forceful knock.   
  
He decided it would be better to face what was most likely his landlord and try to pity him into waiting a bit longer for rent. When he opened the door, however, he was met with a tall, middle aged man instead of his landlord. He seemed straight out of an infomercial or some advertisement, from the uncanny smile he gave to how unnaturally neat his appearance looked. In fact, his outfit didn’t seem that appropriate for the weather. A heavy, long gray coat with a matching scarf while the rest of his outfit looked like business attire.    
  
“May I help you, sir?” Newton asked hesitantly, ready to close the door any minute.    
  
That same uncanny smile widened as his purple eyes shined.   
“I’m looking for a Newton Pulsifer? Do you know where I can find him?”   
  
“Um,” he shuffled his feet and rubbed the back of his neck. “That would be me.”   
  
“Perfect!” the older man said with a clap of his hands that was just a tad too loud and made Newton jump suddenly. He then extend one of his large hands towards the smaller male, who took it and shook limply before letting go.   
  
“Mr. Pulsifer, I want to offer you the deal of a lifetime!”   
  
“That sounds great but, maybe you can leave me a number or something? I’m kinda settling in for the night and it’s late,” Newton said while subtly trying to close the door.   
  
“This won’t take long, and I promise it’s something you will definitely need!”   
  
“It’s just,” he motioned with his one hand vaguely. “I don’t really have the  _ money _ right now, so if it’s something I need to buy I’m sorry to say I can’t accept.”   
  
“Oh don’t worry, it’s nothing that money could buy.”   
  
“Well, I’m Christian and the other day I gave a dollar to the wildfire fund so I’m good, thank you.”   
  
Newton tried to close the door on the odd stranger, having enough of these shenanigans, but was stopped as one of his hands grabbed the door and held it open with such a strong force it made the younger man let go of the door entirely. Newton looked up to the stranger, seeing his smile was pressed into a thin line as he now had a much more threatening air to him. He looked at the bright purple eyes of the other man.   
  
“May I come in and explain more,  _ Mr. Pulsifer? _ ”   
  
Newton nodded and stepped back. He thought back to all the crime shows and documentaries he’s watched in his life and concluded that he might just die tonight. The tall stranger looked around the apartment, not hiding his disgust at all before returning his piercing gaze to Newton. In a second, the disgusted look was replaced by that same unsettling smile.    
  
“Pulsifer... Can I call you Newton?”   
  
The scared man nodded.   
  
“Newton, I want to offer you a  _ proposition _ ,” he said and began to stalk around what little space he had. “I am of an elite breed and I have some work that needs to be done. Of course, I can’t get my hands dirty or else I might upset some higher ups.”   
  
Newton was completely lost, about to ask what this man was going on about but was stopped before he could even start.   
  
“I need someone to help me with this dirty work. Someone reliable, dependable, submissive. You displayed this perfectly before.”   
  
“Before?”   
  
“When you were exchanging that matter for currency.”   
  
“Wha-”   
  
“And at your place of work, even as you came home.”   
  
“Wait! Hold on!” Newton raised his hands in the air as he was trying to process this. “You’ve been stalking me?”   
  
“Hardly stalking. More like… observing.”   
  
“Whatever! You… Get out!” Newton exclaimed and pointed to the door which was now behind the other man’s hulking form.   
  
“I don’t think you understand who you are talking to, Newton.”   
  
“I don’t care, I want you out!”   
  
A loud beep came from the microwave in the kitchen. In seconds, a long tendril-like limb shot out from the back of the stranger and darted for the machine. It sparked as it crushed under the mysterious limb. Newton froze in fear as he watched the long, pulsing flesh come back towards the stranger. Under the fluorescent lights, he could see purple veins just under the slime-covered flesh. It’s end looked like it ended in a hand, but with only three large fingers with gleaming, talon-like nails.    
  
Newton looked at the appendage in horror, his brain trying to desperately remember how to function as the stranger smiled wider than before.   
  
_ “Now, where were we?” _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> chapter 5 coming very soon ;3


End file.
